


In Aeternum

by nelliesbones



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 09:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15627675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelliesbones/pseuds/nelliesbones
Summary: "Why did you never want to marry me?" Yeah, why was that again? A story about Dana Scully, Fox Mulder and commitment. Takes place a few weeks after s11. MS4 and everything that entails never happened. Warmhearted, M for a reason.





	1. From Quest to Question

1\. From Quest to Question

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you never want to marry me?"

Blue eyes popped open, and she shifted in tangled sheets. The white cover slipped down her shoulder, revealing even whiter skin, and Mulder got distracted for a moment. Raising his hand, he reached out to feel her. Soft, so soft. Her face was still flushed from their recent lovemaking... or maybe it was his question?

"What do you mean, Mulder?"

Her voice was raspy, and shadows of her moans were still lingering in the air. In her eyes, though, he noticed a flicker of something else. Vulnerability? Cautiousness?

"You, me, marriage. Why did we never do it?"

"Well, for starters, you never asked."

His eyebrow arched up.

"You're a Federal Agent and a medical doctor. You're carrying a gun, wielding a scalpel. You wrote your dissertation about Einstein's Twin Paradox and you can run," he pointed towards the closet, "in those shoes. I have no idea how you do that. I'm constantly in awe of your abilities. Did you seriously expect me to, I don't know, just ask?"

She scrunched up her nose.

"So... just because I'm strong and adept, I shouldn't expect romance? Is that what you're hinting at?"

Taking her hand, he shook his head, placing a kiss in her palm.

"No, it's just, I respect you way too much, I guess, to simply propose something so important. But that's the sole reason? Me not asking you?"

Retaking control of her hand, she caressed his stubbly jaw, following the curve of his throat down to his chest. The wiry hair she encountered there tickled her fingertips in a million pleasant ways. The moment stretched, as Dana Scully probed the corners of her mind.

_Marry me._

He had said those words to her a long time ago. On the phone. She remembered being annoyed and something about witches and dolls. The memory was blurry, though, and he had clearly not meant it back then. Had he?

Slowly, she shook her head.

"I guess I never thought marriage was open to debate. You were pretty busy with being dead, hiding from the government and awaiting the end of the world. Then I broke up with you..."

Her voice trailed off, and he found her hand on his skin, squeezing gently. His chest rose and sank with each and every breath, and his heart was thumping steadily underneath her touch. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Did it never bother you that we were living in sin? You're Catholic, after all."

Scully thought about sharing a home, a life with Mulder; remembered the warmth, the laughter, the closeness. Eventually, a smile broke out on her face.

"There was nothing sinful about our life together."

He harrumphed and surprised her by sliding down her body. His breath tickled her bellybutton, and his tongue darted out, leaving behind a damp trail. A gasp left her mouth, as he made contact with her most sensitive skin; skin that had barely recovered from his earlier caresses. His lips kissed her intimately, evoking another gasp and a hiss.

"Hmm, I don't know Scully, I can recall a lot of sin."

Her thoughts went blurry, and her legs opened for him, as his tongue demanded access. Letting go of a shuddered breath, she surrendered herself to his ministrations. He was good at this, and he knew her so damn well. On the edge of her perception, she could feel his palms running up her thighs, could feel the silken sheets underneath her body.

"Not a sin," she managed to utter, and his chuckles vibrated against her flesh.

"Well, we could do that _other_ thing that you like, then. Or... just marry me."

He stilled in the vee of her legs, awaiting some kind of response. Propping herself up on her elbows, she blinked, trying to make eye contact with the man between her thighs.

"You can't ask me like that."

His lips curved up in a boyish grin.

"Oh, I believe I just did."

Her head fell into the pillows once more, and mere seconds later, his mouth was back on her.

"Not fair," she muttered. "So not fair."

xxx

He didn't bring it up again. Not when pleasure rolled through her in heavy waves; neither when he pushed into her trembling body; nor when he pulled her into his arms afterwards, falling asleep in the safest of embraces.

He didn't bring it up until breakfast.

"So, what do you think?"

She hummed absentmindedly, scrolling through the news on her phone.

"I think aliens might have infiltrated our government after all. If not, they most definitely should. Hey!"

Scully protested, as he took the smartphone away from her.

"While I appreciate any reference to extraterrestrial life, didn't we agree on no cells during meals?"

She grinned adorably, taking a sip of coffee.

"Sorry. Old habits..."

"Die hard, I know. So, what do you think?"

A frown appeared on her brow, as she tried to put his question into context.

"I think... Sorry, Mulder. You lost me. What do I think about what?"

Another bite of toast made it into her mouth, and she chewed with relish.

"Will you marry me?"

Relish turned into despair, as she choked on her food, coughing heavily. Taking pity on her, he got up, fetching a glass of water, offering it to her.

"Here you go."

She took it, drinking greedily. Finally, the coughing subsided, and she licked her lips.

"Well... You meant it?"

He shrugged matter-of-factly.

"I love you."

Her face softened. Hearing those words again was still so new. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, as she cupped his nape, pulling him close for a brief kiss. He smiled, nuzzling her nose with his.

"Is this a yes?"

"No."

"It's a no?" He looked at her with big puppy eyes.

"No."

"Wow, that's a tough one."

Carefully, she put the glass on the table.

"Why do you want to get married?"

He leaned back in his chair, and under the table, his toe poked hers.

"You want to hear a reason? How much time do you have?"

She laughed out.

"Well, since it's Saturday... humor me."

"Alright. Where to start? I already mentioned that I love you."

Tilting her head, she smiled at him.

"Yes. But you could say it again."

"Scully, I love you. From the bottom of my heart. And I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I let you go once, I'm not gonna make that mistake a second time. I want to make you laugh and smile and feel good. How am I doing so far?"

"Hmm... You're definitely on a roll. Go on."

"I'm 57 years old, and you're the singularly best thing that's ever happened to me. I want to promise to be there for you every day and I want to sign that promise. I want to call you wife. You could be the wife of my life, Scully."

She grimaced.

"The rhyme kind of ruined it, Mulder."

She got up as if to leave, and he grabbed her hand, tugging until she fell onto his lap.

For someone so strong, she was surprisingly light.

Surprisingly cuddly as well, he thought, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'd be allowed to kiss you in a church," he murmured into her hair, and she shivered, remembering votive candles, a promise and a conversation in the pews.

"Mulder, you know that I love you."

His lips grazed her temple, as he hummed.

"But..."

"Here comes 'but'..."

"Can you give me a day or two to get used to the idea? Getting married... that's what normal people do. But is this us?"

His heart clenched a little bit at her reply, but he recovered quickly, swaying her gently on his lap.

"At least you didn't say 'no'. I can work with that."

"I promise to think about it."

xxx

And that's what she did.

Scully thought about it while running her usual five miles on the farm roads surrounding the little house. Getting married... Once upon a time, she had dreamed about her wedding. A big reception with family and friends, a white dress, the promise of a family of her own ahead of her.

She'd stopped imagining her wedding sometime after joining the x-files, after Melissa had died. Now there were hardly any relatives left, and as for the promise of an own family... Even the white dress seemed silly at the age of 54. Shaking her head, she pounded the pavement even harder.

_Mrs. Spooky._

That's what the other agents had called her back in the day. Was she ready to become Mrs. Spooky?

Forty minutes later, her pedometer showed five miles, but Scully was none the wiser. She walked the last hundred feet back to the house, calming her racing pulse. Mulder was sitting on the porch, waiting for her with a glass of iced tea.

Bending down, she kissed him hello, accepting the cool beverage with sincere gratitude.

He leaned back, blinking against the morning sun, studying her short ponytail, her rosy face, her toned legs. Mulder knew that, from time to time, she was struggling with the concept of aging, but to him, she'd never been more beautiful. His gaze lingered on her breasts for a few inappropriate moments, and she caught him staring at her.

Mulder offered an apologetic grin and shrugged.

"You're hot."

She laughed out.

"I'm sweaty."

"Somehow that makes it even hotter. Why don't I join you in the shower?"

Putting her hands on her hips, she shook her head.

"Do you have any idea how many sex-related accidents occur in the shower?"

He slid deeper into his lounge chair, pulling her between his legs. His fingers played with the hem of her running pants, while he wiggled his eyebrows in a seductive manner.

"I like it when you go all Google on me."

Rolling her eyes, she pointed towards the entrance door.

"I'm gonna grab a shower. You can start a shopping list. We need toast and coffee."

Getting up, he nodded.

"We're out of detergent as well."

Looping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close, inhaling the scent of fresh sweat and woman; the scent of her on an ordinary Saturday morning.

"I'm happy," he smiled, cracking her heart wide open with such a simple statement.

xxx

Thirty minutes later, they were in his car on their way to town. She smelled like vanilla and spring, damp hair curling sweetly around her face. There was music coming out of the radio, and she hummed along with the melody. Happy, yes, that's what she was as well.

Happy in the little house, in their new-found intimacy. Happy in his personal space, in his company, his arms.

Dana Scully wasn't used to that sunny kind of happiness anymore, and it was as if she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Happiness... could she trust it? Could she trust it enough to build the rest of her life upon it?

Opening her mouth, she turned to him. His eyes flickered sideways, giving her a brief smile.

"Yeah?"

"Just so you know, I'm thinking about your proposal. I really am."

"Care to share any preliminary results?"

"I'm happy as well. You make me happy."

Blindly, he reached out, his hand landing on her knee.

"Scully, just for the record. If you say no, if it doesn't get any better than this... it's enough. You're enough. More than enough. Just being with you every day is the best."

Her hand covered his.

"Thank you."

xxx

Whole Foods was buzzing with people, as they entered the store. She shivered, as an onslaught of temperature-controlled air hit her still damp hair. He noticed her discomfort and rubbed her arm with his palm.

"Divide and conquer?"

She nodded.

"The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we're back in spring."

Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she squinted at the list in his hands.

"I'm gonna get fruits and veggies. And cheese and meat."

He hummed affirmatively.

"Non-food for me, then. Alright, Agent Scully, cash desk in twenty?"

"Make that fifteen."

He leaned down, parting with a quick kiss.

"Challenge accepted."

For a moment, she just stood there, watching his retreating form, appreciating his well-structured backside. With a very private smile, she finally turned around, ready to face apples and strawberries.

"Excuse me, Honey?"

The voice was elderly, and as she lifted her eyes, Scully found a tiny lady with gray curls and a wrinkly smile looking up at her. The woman was holding something that looked very familiar.

"Yes?"

"I think your husband dropped his wallet."

She offered the item to Scully.

"Oh, thank you. Indeed, that's Mulder's."

"I happened to notice the two of you. You reminded me a lot of me and my Wally, God bless him."

"Thank you, you're very kind."

"No problem, Honey. Have a nice day."

The lady shuffled away, and Scully regarded the wallet in her hand.

 _Husband_...

Maybe a white wedding wasn't the point, and maybe happiness was fragile by nature.

Setting herself in motion, Scully put fruits and vegetables into her shopping cart. With great care, she chose nuts and cereals.

Maybe it was just about having faith.

She selected some pieces of cheese and opted on steak for dinner.

Maybe it was about belonging to each other. About putting a label on it – once and for all.

 _Husband_...

Something like joy spread out in her belly, as she tasted the word on her tongue.

 _Wife_...

She saw him from afar. He was standing in front of the vast range of shower gels, a frown on his handsome face. Her heart shifted in her chest, as she approached him, and Scully cast a quick glance at the bottles in his hand.

"Vanilla and sandalwood, please."

He sighed in relief.

"I always mix it up. I should take a photo of the label."

"My answer is 'yes', Mulder."

Turning around, he regarded her quizzically.

"To the photo?"

"No. I want to marry you. Let's get married. Yes, please."

He cried out, and she found herself flush to his body, his strong arms all around her, his mouth on hers – kissing the hell out of her in front of shower gel, body lotion and conditioner.

xxx

What do you do after getting engaged?

Mulder and Scully resumed grocery shopping. When they left the supermarket with big paper bags in their arms, the whole situation was almost surreal. But then he took her hand, threading his fingers through hers.

"I can't belief you said 'yes' in a supermarket."

"I can't believe you asked with your tongue inside of me."

They made it to their car before erupting in giggles. But it was a close call.

To be continued...


	2. Something Old, Something Purple

2\. Something Old, Something Purple

Dana Scully shifted in her seat, fighting against the early hour and her pantyhose. Turning her head, she eyeballed her chipper-as-they-come partner. Why was he in such a good mood? He shouldn't be awake yet, let alone on a westbound flight.

"Tell me again why we're going to Washington State."

"It's raining starfish, Scully."

"Shoot me."

"I'd rather not."

She sighed.

"While uncommon, the phenomenon of raining animals is not unheard of. If you go back in history, you find Roman naturalist Pliny The Elder documenting rains of frog and fish in the first century AD. In the eighteenth century, French soldiers witnessed a rain of toads in the city of Lille. In the rural areas of Honduras, _Lluvia de Peces_ , fish rain, allegedly happens every summer. One hypothesis is that tornadic waterspouts pick up aquatic creatures and carry them for several miles."

Mulder nodded.

"Only there hasn't been a storm in the Bellingham area."

"Mulder..."

He lifted his palm.

"But I agree with you. I don't think it's an x-file."

She practically whined.

"Why do we have to go, then?"

"The mayor's wife – guess who he's friends with – was hit by a starfish. It was frozen solid and fell right onto her head. She dropped dead.

Scully groaned.

"I know, Scully, what are the odds?!"

"Each year, only about two Americans per million are killed by a falling object."

"I honestly didn't expect you to know that."

A smug smile ghosted across her face.

"What else is there to know, Mulder?"

"It's purple starfish."

There were a few seconds of silence, as she processed the new information. Then:

" _Purple_ starfish _rain_?"

He hummed a few tunes of the old Prince classic just for her, and she closed her eyes, leaning back in her seat. She liked his voice, liked it a lot. Finally, a real smile spread out on her face.

"The Bureau is putting us on an early-morning cross-country-flight just to placate the golf buddy of someone at the top of the food chain?"

He nudged her shoulder with his, relieved that she was finally losing her grumpiness.

"Skinner actually had the decency to look guilty. Plus, they booked us in a fancy hotel. Wanna hear something funny?"

"I can barely contain my excitement."

"Skinman tried to ask if we need one or two rooms."

Her eyes snapped open.

"What? What did you tell him? It's against the policy of the Bureau- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Seriously? After everything we've been through, you're still worrying about that? That's so 1995. Do you remember that you agreed to marry me? The FBI might get wind of it at some point."

She rolled her eyes, and he patted her hand.

"Relax. It's gonna be OK."

"You told him, then?"

"I might've mentioned they shouldn't splurge on that second room."

Scully bit her lip.

"What did Skinner say?"

"Not much. But he tried to hug me. It was awkward."

He grimaced, and she couldn't help but laughing.

"Aww, he likes us."

"He should, we saved his ass in Mud Lick, Kentucky. You think we should invite him to the wedding, Scully?"

Scully shifted in her seat, searching his gaze.

"About that wedding..."

His face fell.

"You changed your mind."

Her hand found his arm, reassuring him with a simple touch.

"No, I want to be your wife. I just don't want a big ceremony. Just us... that would be nice. Are you disappointed?"

He laughed out, but it was a somber kind of laughter.

"Just in case you haven't noticed, I ain't got that many friends. But what about you? And your brothers?"

She shook her head.

"It's not the same since Mom's death. Honestly, it hasn't been much of anything in years. I don't want to share this."

He squeezed her hand.

"So... it's just you and just me?"

Leaning in, she smiled against his lips.

"What else is new?"

xxx

Spring was in full bloom in Bellingham, Washington, and it was almost too beautiful to bear. Wherever they went, the salty tang of the Pacific accompanied them, mingling with the sweet scent of blossoms.

In stark contrast to the beauty of their surroundings stood the meeting with the city's mayor. The man was grief-stricken, unwilling to accept that a rare caprice of nature was responsible for the loss of his wife. Scully spent four hours performing a necropsy on a starfish and running every test she could think of.

Mulder met up with a park ranger, learning a lot about the water bodies in the area.

In the end, neither of them could come up with something useful.

The mayor cried ugly tears, and Scully almost wished for some kind of swarm intelligence that could be held responsible.

But sometimes, there's nothing more than purple starfish rain.

Exhaustion born out of an early flight, hours of futile investigation and empathy was slowly wearing them down, and by the time they made it to their hotel in the old district of Fairhaven, the sun was about to set.

The hotel was as nice as Mulder had promised, overlooking Bellingham Bay and the planks of the South Bay Trail. Scully paused before entering, closing her eyes and facing the see breeze. Inhaling deeply, she tried to arrive in the moment. He stopped beside her, just watching her.

"This place is way too beautiful for a day like today," she finally said.

His hand found the small of her back, moving in soothing circles.

"We could go for a walk."

Opening her mouth, she was about to say no. It had been a long day. But, if anything, today had been a reminder of how short life could be.

"A walk? Why not."

"Let's check in first and change into something more comfortable. Those heels are killing me," he joked, and she cracked a smile; the first smile in hours. Leaning in, she grazed his rough cheek with her lips.

"Thank you."

His hand on her back encouraged her, and she stepped into the lobby.

"Always, Scully."

Since daylight was fading, the two of them made quick process of checking in, and it only took them fifteen minutes to depart the hotel in jeans and comfortable shoes. The sun had just vanished for the day, leaving behind an almost ethereal quality.

It was the blue hour, and the light was changing every minute.

Mulder and Scully fell into step on the picturesque trail, following the planks as they lead over the lapping waves of the ocean. Eventually, she stopped, spotting a purple starfish in the shore.

"It looks so innocent," she murmured, and he looked into the water right beside her.

"It probably is."

"So, everything's just been a coincidence?"

"Coincidence, kismet, karma – there are a lot of names for the inexplicable, Scully."

"How can he possibly go on?"

Mulder sighed while thinking about the widowed mayor.

"I don't know. How did you go on back then?"

She sucked in a breath, surprised since they usually didn't talk about this, at least not in earnest.

"I didn't have a choice. I was pregnant. But, Mulder," turning her head, she sought his gaze, burning him with her bright blue gaze, "burying you did terrible things to me. If it hadn't been for the child..."

Lifting his arm, he tucked her into his side, pondering the price you pay for opening your heart to someone you love. She shivered against his body, and he noticed that the wind had turned quite chilly.

"And yet, here you are. So many years later."

"Here I am."

"And we're getting married."

She turned around under his arm, facing him.

"Yeah, how are we going to do that anyway?"

"We have to apply a marriage license and... Do you want a civil wedding or go to a church? I think I know the answer to that, don't I?"

Tilting her head, she admitted: "If you're willing to do it, I'd love to go to a church."

"You know that I'm an atheist, but I've always respected your belief. If your God doesn't burn my feet, I'd be happy to kiss you in front of a priest."

A smile slipped over her face, shortly after replaced by a furrowed brow.

"That's it? We just walk in, say yes and get our next case the day after?"

Lifting his hand, he used his thumb to smooth the frown between her eyes.

"I don't need a grand gesture, I just wanna share the rest of my life with you. That said, I see that you might want slightly more than that."

Rummaging around in his pocket, he presented her with a little box.

"Maybe that's a start. Wanna open it?"

A look of joy washed over her face, as she accepted the box.

"Mulder..."

Finally, she opened the lid. Her eyes widened, as she marveled at the piece of jewelry.

"It looks like my grandma's ring."

He smiled.

"That's because it _is_ your grandma's ring. Your mother gave it to me a long time ago. Just in case, she'd said. I tried to give it back to her after, well, you know, but she didn't want to hear anything of it. She told me to keep it, to get my act together and keep the faith. I guess she never gave up on us."

Scully could barely speak, touched by the sudden presence of her mother in her life.

_Hello, Fox._

_No, not Fox. Mulder..._

She could almost hear her mother's soft voice, feel her arms around her – like a hug from somewhere beyond the sea.

"She's always been your biggest fan, Mulder. Surprisingly. I, I don't know what to say... This means a lot. When... when did she give it to you?"

Her big blue eyes looked at him in wonder.

"Hmm, Thanksgiving 2008 or 2009? Your brother was just back from Bahrain, I think. Matthew had that vegan hippie girlfriend and Tara served us Tofurkey."

A beam lit up her face, as she remembered.

"Oh God, I'd forgotten all about that. You, me and Mom went to Burger King afterwards. I think that was the only time I saw my mother eating a Whopper."

Mulder chuckled.

"'Fox, Dana, we'll never talk about this.'"

"And we never did. So, you just sat on that ring, then?"

"Honestly, you and me getting married... it sounded a lot like her idea and her idea alone back then. You hit a rough patch in the hospital. I... well, I just hit a rough patch. The Caribbean getaway – that was nice. You, me, that flimsy bikini of yours... But back home, the dark clouds kept lingering."

Her gaze got unfocused, as she went down memory lane.

Summer nights in the little house, the air too hot to get any sleep. Winter days and Christmas lights.

"We've had happy times as well, Mulder," she finally murmured, her fingers playing with the little jewelry box.

Lowering his head, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"You've always made me happy, never doubt that for a second. You've saved me in so many ways, Scully. But you couldn't save me from myself."

Lifting her hand, she cupped his cheek.

"I wish I hadn't left."

"You had to, I get that now."

"We're here now."

"Yes, we're here. I'm finally that man standing in front of you with a ring."

He took the box from her, slipping the ring on her finger.

"It fits."

"I measured your finger while you were sleeping and resized the ring."

He looked just a little bit proud, and she could feel her heart open for him, as the hardness of the day crumbled away.

"Thank you, Mulder." Turning her face heavenwards, she added: "And thank you, Mom."

Using the opportunity, he bent down to her uplifted lips, gently parting them with his. He kissed her in tune with the fading light, in tune with the sound of the waves, and ever so slowly, he could feel her relaxing in his arms. Her hands slipped under his hoodie, seeking warmth and contact, and he wrapped her even tighter into his embrace.

"Scully..." he finally murmured after breaking the kiss, and she sighed into the curve of his neck. Opening her eyes, she found sparkles of light dancing on the ocean and, somewhere in the distance, a ship was tooting. A smile tugged at her lips and, eventually, she had to giggle. Stepping back a few inches, Mulder regarded her in puzzlement.

Shrugging her shoulders, she took his hand, still laughing.

"Sorry, Mulder," she finally managed to get out. "An overdose of romance, I guess."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm offering you my heart, and you're laughing."

Somehow, this made her giggle even harder.

The last shade of blue turned into darkness, and the sound of her amusement pearled into the night. At last, Mulder and Scully turned around on the South Bay Trail, walking hand in hand back to their fancy hotel.

About to spend the night in expensive sheets.

Maybe he'd kiss her.

Maybe she'd be naked except for the ring on her finger.

The purple starfish in the shore remained unimpressed.

To be continued...


	3. Clad in Saturdays

3\. Clad in Saturdays

A few sunrays peeked in through half-closed blinds, caressing a shoulder, a calf. The man was lying on his back, salt-and-pepper gracing his temples, his stubbly cheeks. In sleep, one could still glimpse the trustful boy in his features, even though he'd left boyhood behind a few decades ago.

On his chest, a woman was resting, and she was so beautiful that it almost hurt. She wasn't young anymore, but middle-age had only added to her loveliness. Disheveled red hair was framing her face, and her porcelain skin seemed untouched by the sun.

Golden morning light accentuated their position, the way they were helplessly entangled in each other.

He murmured in sleep, and out of instinct, her hand moved on his chest, covering his heart. Turning around, he pulled her fully into his arms, and she shifted in his embrace until he was spooning her from behind. His nose found its usual spot on her neck, and his palm came to rest on her belly.

It was a puzzle their bodies had completed a thousand times over, and even though Mulder and Scully might have tried to forget it, their bodies hadn't.

Intimacy had come back easily, as if awakening from hibernation.

His palms had relearned the shape of her, his body was, yet again, accustomed to her weight, her height, her curves. The scent of her hair, the rose petal texture of her lips – everything was once more so utterly and intimately familiar.

With a sigh, he nestled deeper into her sleeping form, her hair tickling his nose. He tried to scratch the itch with clumsy fingers and finally his eyelids fluttered.

He was awake.

His eyes opened for real, and Mulder took in the surroundings. A hotel room. Nicer than usual. Right. Bellingham, Washington. Starfish.

He closed his eyes once more, snuggling back into the pillows. Scully was still sound asleep in his arms, her body heavy and warm against his. Shifting his head, he kissed her shoulder; just a peck, just because.

Waking up next to her had been nothing but a bittersweet memory for such a long time, and even before that... Mulder had no clue when or how it had happened, but taking her for granted had been one of his biggest mistakes. An error he had no intention to repeat.

She stirred in sleep, murmuring incoherently, and he sucked in a breath, as her leg moved over his in the most sensual way, reminding him that they were indeed naked underneath their blanket. Reminding him that she was in his arms, his bed, his life by choice.

Bending down, he placed a second kiss on her shoulder, but this time the tip of his tongue darted out to taste her skin, nibbling and licking tenderly. He stilled then, awaiting some kind of reaction, but she remained unresponsive. Knowing that his touch, his kisses were almost always welcome, he dared to move the hand that was still splayed out on her belly. His fingers drew a slow circle over her midsection, admiring its tautness, the strength therein.

Another kiss on her shoulder.

His fingers grazing the underside of her breasts, following their curve.

Heat centered low in his belly, anticipation building almost painfully.

His lips found an auricle, capturing her earlobe ever so gently.

"Scully," he whispered, "if by any chance this is creepy or unwelcome, feel free to punch me."

She inhaled a shuddered breath, but stayed otherwise sound asleep.

He allowed his hand to slide further down until it met the small patch of wiry hair between her legs, simply cupping her for a moment. He could feel her heat underneath his touch, and the mere idea of her so trustfully in his arms filled his heart with profound gratitude.

Another kiss, this time to her temple.

Using his other arm to pull her harder against his body, Mulder let a careful finger slip between her legs, stroking her the most intimately. Back and forth. And back and forth. Her breath hitched, as she opened her thighs a few inches, but she didn't wake.

He was painfully hard by now, and he couldn't stop himself from sliding two fingers deep into her, finding her as snug and wet and warm as he remembered. She let go of the softest moan, and – finally – her breath pattern changed, telling him that she was awake. For a moment, she didn't move at all.

The hand that wasn't inside her body found hers, fingers interlacing.

"Remember your safe word, Scully?" he murmured.

xxx

The most exciting dream jolted her awake, and with every nerve ending on high alert, Scully needed a moment to make sense of it. A moment to realize that, in fact, it hadn't been a dream at all. It had been him, had been Mulder spooning her from behind, his breath in her ear, his fingers playing her body like his favorite instrument. Drowsy need rolled through her in heavy waves, and everything inside of her was molten.

"Mulder..."

"Is this a 'stop'?"

"Stop and I'm gonna shoot you."

He chuckled, but if the hardness pressed against her rear was any indicator, he was as aroused as she was. Rolling onto her stomach, she bent her right leg, making space for him.

"Come."

He followed her, followed until he was half on top of her.

"Like this? I'm too heavy..."

"You're perfect. Trust me, I can take it."

With a shaken breath, he moved above her, enjoying the view of her bare back underneath him. The angry red snake had paled over the years, but it was still a vivid reminder of everything that's been. To never ever underestimate her...

_All this because I didn't get you a desk?_

_Not everything is about you, Mulder. This is my life._

He traced each and every vertebrae with his fingertip before following the circle of the snake.

 _Our life_ , he thought, finally aligning himself, finally pushing into her. She accepted him with a long sigh, lifting her butt just the tiniest bit to push further into him, and he was lost at the perfect feel of her. He'd taken her from behind before, but they'd never done it with her flat on her stomach. Mulder was aware of every inch of their height difference, as he was covering her; covering her so completely that some distant part of him remained afraid to crush her, but she had to make this about trust and he trusted her infinitely.

"Still breathing?" he managed to ask, and she laughed between gasps.

"I'm sturdy."

"What are you, some kind of furniture?"

She giggled, and it sent vibrations through his whole body. Bracing most of his weight on his forearms, he couldn't use his hands to touch her, but he lowered his mouth and peppered kisses all over her nape.

"How are you feeling?"

Warm. Safe. Grounded. Small. Taken. On the brink of something amazing.

Her answer was an incoherent mutter, as he hit just the right spot. Her spine went rigid, and he could feel the telltale flutter of her inner muscles all around him. Close, she was so close. His teeth sunk into the flesh of her neck, marking her, and the over-stimulation sent her tumbling over the edge.

He allowed himself to let go as well, and another deep thrust was all he needed. With a groan, he emptied himself, following her into blissful oblivion.

Crashing like a dead weight on top of her petite frame.

"I love your sturdiness," he managed to utter, and how she had any breath left to laugh was beyond him.

"Good morning."

"Hell yes."

xxx

The flight back to DC was significantly better than the outbound flight to Washington state the day before. For one thing they were well rested and for the other thing... sex before breakfast had something to be said for it. Lolling in her seat, Scully studied the man beside her. He was reading a book, his bifocals perched on his nose.

_They're not bifocals, Scully, they're progressives. They're called progressive lenses._

_No need to get defensive._

An involuntary smile tugged at her lips, and she stretched her sore shoulder.

Looking up from his book, he scrutinized her.

"See, I hurt you after all."

Curling her fingers around his neck, she pulled him close, reassuring him with a kiss.

"Just a twisted muscle, that's all." She grinned adorably, reminding him of her 30-year-old self. "I liked it."

Lifting his hand, he tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear.

"Usually, I use handcuffs to restrain you. Not my full body weight."

"Any complaints?"

He wiggled his head.

"Whatever pleases you is my pleasure, you know that. I just don't wanna pancake my future wife."

The goosebumps on her arms caught her by surprise.

"I'm gonna be your wife."

"Yeah, that's one of the most common consequences of marriage, Scully."

"Don't make fun of me."

He leaned in, nudging her cheek with his nose.

"Sorry."

"You're gonna be my husband."

Keeping his mouth shut, he simply nodded.

"Mulder... what do you want me to wear?"

The puzzlement on his face was real.

"What do you mean? 19th century empire style versus Coco Chanel?"

Gnawing her lower lip, she hurried to clarify.

"Do you want to see me in a bridal gown? Because, honestly, I don't know if I can pull that off..."

Taking her hand, he guided it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, on the ring he had put there.

"Scully... I want you. Just you. I want you clad in Saturdays, wearing downtime and a smile. I want you in pantsuits with shoulder pads, in silken pajamas and in nothing but my old Knicks shirt. I want you in jeans and dresses and everything else in between. Wear whatever you like and I don't mean that in an disinterested way. It's just that... you've already exceeded my expectations."

She was touched by his words, touched someplace very deep down. Unable to form a reply, she put her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she finally said, and she could feel his lips grazing her temple.

"I was thinking... I could drop by the DC marriage bureau tomorrow and apply a license."

He was holding his breath without realizing it, but her answer came almost instantly.

"Yes, please. I'm gonna schedule a meeting with Father John."

Lifting her head, she turned to him, seeking his gaze.

Bright blue met hazel green.

And they couldn't stop smiling, their eyes.

Couldn't stop for the entire flight back home.

To be continued...


	4. For Better, For Worse

4\. For Better, For Worse

The morgue greeted Mulder with antiseptic chill. He shivered instantly, wondering for the umpteenth time how this environment never seemed to bother her. His eyes scanned the place and he found nothing but an empty autopsy table and his partner at her desk.

"Hey Doc."

"Mulder..."

She kept on writing, and he crossed the distance to her in slow steps, using the opportunity to study her. Red wisps had spilled out of her hair net, and he could tell from her posture that her neck was stiff and sore – the price she payed for a day spent bending over corpses. He stopped behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"You need a massage," he said.

Scully grunted.

"Tell me. But I'm almost ready to go."

"What did you find?

" _Danaus plexippus_."

"Oh, are you related?"

An involuntary smile crossed her face.

"Danaus plexippus, better known as the monarch butterfly may be the most common butterfly in North America. It's an iconic pollinator species, famous for its bright orange color and its fall migration. Also, Mulder, did you know that the monarch was transported to the ISS and bred there?"

He wiggled his eyebrows.

"So our butterflies are from outta space?"

"I looked for everything out of the ordinary. I'm still running a few tox tests, but so far, I have to conclude that they're just textbook monarchs."

"So we've got no idea how our victim ended up in front of the ER, vomiting butterflies?"

She shook her head.

"Well, the butterfly is one of the most emblematic totem animals. It's a symbol of change, of transformation and, in early Christianity, it even stood for the soul itself."

Leaning down, he lowered his mouth to her ear, whispering, "What exactly are you implying, Agent Scully?"

His breath caressing her ear evoked goosebumps on her arms. She rolled her eyes, mentally chastising herself for reacting to his proximity like that; always and still.

"I'm not implying anything. Just stating facts, Mulder."

"Sooo... since you brought up transformation, did you doublecheck that our victim is dead?"

She stilled, blinking once, twice.

"After all these years you still manage to surprise me. No heartbeat, full rigor mortis, no sign of a cocoon. I'm following a hunch here, but I think she might be dead."

He grimaced.

"I wouldn't rule out witchcraft."

"And neither did J.K. Rowling."

Turning around in her chair, she looked up at him with a smirk. He gave her an indignant glare.

"Seriously? Even after Eastwood?"

She waved her hand, as if dismissing him.

"You got _one_ case of spontaneous combustion."

"You're close to witnessing a second one. Just giving you a fair warning here."

"Do you want me to check your blood pressure?"

He captured her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"You can check my blood pressure any time. At home."

She nodded, grazing his cheek with her knuckles.

"Just let me change."

"Do you mind if I take a look at our victim?"

She furrowed her brow.

"She _is_ dead, Mulder."

"Transformation, Scully. Transformation."

xxx

For once, the dead remained dead. The radio was playing ZZ Top and Scully steered their car through the hurly-burly of a Washington summer evening. Next to her, Mulder loosened his tie, letting go of the restraints of the day. The scenery changed, as the streets got narrower, eventually turning into country roads. Fewer and fewer cars crossed their path. The gate that used to guard their driveway was open; these days, it was open most of the time.

Scully signaled and turned, as the unremarkable house appeared in the distance.

He watched her with tender amusement.

"You don't have to signal. It's just us here. Always just us."

She cast him a sideways glance.

"Have I ever told you why I came back?"

He turned serious.

"Because you love me? Because you believe in us? At least that's what I hope."

She reached out, her hand finding his blindly, squeezing briefly.

"Yes. But that's not what I was talking about. I mean, have I ever told you why I came back to this house?"

"Well," he stretched the word, "your house was mean. It tried to kill you and then it blew up. I assume something like that kind of messes up your feng shui."

"All practical motives aside, we've been at our happiest here and at our worst. For so long, this house has been like a vault. And, I have to say it, there are neater places on the market."

"Scully, we can move if that's what you want. I've said it before and I mean it."

"It's not what I want. I came here, to the gate. I saw the house, as if it was waiting for me. A little old-fashioned, a little battered, but still out there, braving the weather. Just like us, Mulder. So I made up my mind. Then I signaled, choosing _this_ for a second time. I guess," she shrugged, finally stopping the car in front of the house, "I've just kept on signaling ever since."

His heart clenched unexpectedly at her words, and he moved closer to put a soft kiss on her lips.

"Save something for the vows, Dana," he whispered, and his voice – so sincere yet warm – caressed her like summer wind.

She smiled against his lips.

"We're home."

xxx

The evening unfolded like many others these days. She went for a run, he fixed dinner. They ate on the couch, both agreeing that they should use the kitchen table instead; both of them reveling in their laziness, though. After dinner, he switched on the TV, browsing through the channels, and she read something on her phone.

_I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion... All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain._

Mulder followed the movie for a few minutes, but found out that he wasn't really in the mood for sci-fi classics.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

He turned his focus to her, but she didn't look up from the screen in her hand.

"I don't wanna watch 'Blade Runner'."

"Watch something else, then."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not in the mood for science fiction," he gasped.

She hummed again, way too absentmindedly for his liking. He pouted, but she failed to notice that as well. Finally, he reached out, simply stealing her phone and hiding it under the cushion beneath him.

"Hey, I was reading an article. I need my phone."

"And I need attention."

Scully opened her mouth and closed it again, annoyance turning into something way softer, as she regarded his lost-little-puppy eyes. She shifted on the sofa until she could face him without twisting her neck.

"Okay. You don't want to watch science fiction."

He nodded fiercely.

"Not even 'Twilight Zone! That's unprecedented."

She bit her lip, trying to muster some sympathy.

"Well, we've got a pretty outlandish case at work right now."

He as good as rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah, must be Tuesday. Or Wednesday. I could always go home after work and enjoy science fiction. It has never bothered me before. Scully, I think I'm getting old."

Now she had to laugh, but she tried to make up for it by crawling towards him and taking him into her arms.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I'm not laughing."

He grunted something unintelligible into her neck, and she kissed his temple.

"I'm glad you're getting older."

"Wow, I'm saving that reply for the next time _you_ are bothered by your age."

She stroked his hair, trying to alleviate his irritation.

"I'm glad you're getting older because it's proof of life. Only the dead and lifeless don't age. And I really want to be alive with you."

Scully thought about Barbara Beaumont who, despite staying young and immaculate, had given up the very essence of humanity itself: compassion and the ability to love someone beside yourself.

"I guess we could always attach a teenage groupie to your spine, if you insist, but I'm afraid it might interfere with our relationship."

He chuckled, finally wrapping his arms around her and taking part in the hug.

"You're right, I'm overly dramatic."

His full lips landed on her neck, and she sighed, as his presence enveloped her completely.

"Maybe you just like me better than science fiction. Did you even think of that?"

"Hmm, nah," he joked, and she wriggled in his arms, trying to free herself. He laughed out while tightening his hold on her.

"You- you!" she gasped, and he only stopped laughing, because his mouth descended on hers. She stopped fidgeting eventually, melting against his body instead, as his tongue pushed into her mouth; kissing her thoroughly and in earnest.

Because she was right – he was there, she was there, they were alive. And living, it was fun, so much fun these days.

As his hand snaked under her shirt, feeling the softness of her skin, he thought that maybe, just maybe he might even like her better than "Twilight Zone".

xxx

The alarm rang at six am, cutting into the sweet oblivion of sleep. She poked his ribs, encouraging him to silence his phone; he grunted in response, fishing for the offensive cell on his nightstand.

Last night, they hadn't made love on the couch, but only because they'd fallen to the floor halfway into it. When he'd bumped his head on the couch table as well, Mulder and Scully had moved the party to their bed – not because they were getting old, but because their furniture was.

He remembered with a smile, pulling her close for a few more early morning snuggles.

"Good morning," he murmured, and she burrowed her nose in his chest, smelling the musky scent of sex; remembering as well.

Lifting her head, she tried opening her eyes, meeting him with her bright shade of blue, taking his breath away just like the very first morning.

"Good morning."

Reaching out, he smoothed her tousled hair with his palm, and she leaned into his touch.

"I love you like this," he murmured, before his brain could filter the words, but fortunately there was no need to filter, not anymore.

Turning her head, she kissed his wrist.

"Like what?"

"Warm, unfocused, just here with me."

A smile spread out on her face, as a strong wave of belonging rushed through her.

"Fox Mulder, are you getting sentimental in your old age?"

His lips curved up.

"I was just offering to make breakfast, but now I think it might be your turn."

xxx

Love and banter and laughter.

Kisses and moans and embraces.

Coffee and toast and fruit.

That's how it was, these days. Life so beautiful and ordinary.

Her phone rang when they were in their car, just reaching the outskirts of the big city, and he couldn't help but pay attention. In the passenger seat, she was listening and talking for a few minutes, finally ending the call and looking at him.

"That was Father John. Are you ready to get married next Saturday?"

To be continued...


	5. Commitment

5\. Commitment

They got married on Saturday.

Just him, just her, just like that.

It was a simple ceremony, only two people standing in front of the Lord.

Her Lord, not his.

_Well, I may not believe in God, but I believe in you. Therefore, I speak to him through you._

It was only fitting, Mulder thought, that after all these years of chasing his Holy Grail, following his truth, they were finally right here, doing it her way.

_Reason and faith in harmony. Isn't that why we're so good together?_

Turning his head, he looked at the woman standing beside him, and gratitude flooded his chest.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud."

Mulder could hear Father John's voice loud and clear, but his words had a hard time penetrating the fog in his head, for he couldn't stop looking at her. He remembered getting up this morning, brushing his teeth right next to her in the bathroom, lingering in the doorframe until Scully had laughed and shooed him away.

She was nervous, he saw it in her posture and in the way she kept on pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

Was he nervous? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell very much right now.

Except that she was beautiful. So beautiful. Her hair was curling around her neck, and sunrays shone in through the stained-glass windows, highlighting her pale blue dress. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen her in a dress, but he liked it, liked it a lot.

Mulder wondered if he was allowed to reach out and take her hand. Nobody had told him anything about wedding manners.

"Dearly beloved, you have come together into the house of the Church..."

He was nervous.

She could tell from the way he was fidgeting beside her. Somehow, his agitation was calming her own, and Scully reached out, threading her fingers through his. He squeezed them gratefully, and she gave him a sideways glance, a smile.

Mulder in a suit was one of her favorite Mulders. It was the old Mulder, the one she'd met first. It reminded her of his boyish enthusiasm, his Oxford education, long hours in countless rental cars. How often had she fixed his tie before finally undoing it?

Once more, he was standing next to her in a suit and, oh my God, they were really doing this.

"And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions."

He could hear her sharp intake of breath, could feel her fingers tightening around his. This is it, he thought.

"Fox and Dana, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?"

_"_ I have."

His voice was raspy, but so was hers.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I am."

No hesitation this time for they have both loved each other to death and beyond already.

The priest smiled.

"Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his Church."

Mulder and Scully turned towards each other, inching closer, and he took a deep breath, as the words vibrated in his head before pouring out of his mouth.

"I, Fox William Mulder, take you, Dana Katherine Scully, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life."

He'd committed to her before, countless times over the years.

_Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant, my touchstone._

But he'd never done it with so much joy and hope in his heart.

Her eyes were shimmering, as she held onto his right hand.

"I, Dana Katherine Scully, take you, Fox William Mulder, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life."

_But what if we could stop, pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes? Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life? And, seeing those choices, choose another path?_

Their eyes locked, as they paused, taking stock of this heavenly moment, and suddenly it was him whose vision was blurry with tears. They'd come so close, so incredibly close to not doing this.

His hands were shaky, as he slipped the wedding band on her finger, but so were hers.

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder."

Her smile was bright, so bright, and Mulder wondered if this was the moment when he was finally allowed to kiss her, but then she was in his arms already, pulling his head down. And without hesitation, he kissed her; in a church, in front of a priest, in front of her God. It was warm, familiar and real.

They were married.

xxx

"Well, that was unexpectedly romantic. Can I call you Mrs. Mulder now?"

Her eyebrow arched up.

"I don't know, _can_ you?"

He seemed dumbfounded for a moment.

"You did... you didn't change your name, did you?"

She shook her head, taking a sip straight out of her beer bottle.

"Nope."

He nodded.

"That would've been weird. After all, you're my Scully."

She smiled, regarding the wedding band on her finger, this age-old symbol of infinity and belonging.

"But you're right. This is meaningful. Thanks for asking me, Mulder."

Reaching over the table, he took her hand.

"Are you kidding me? Thank you for taking me, thank you for the past 25 years."

She shrugged adorably.

"It takes two, Mulder. You've been right there next to me, all along the way."

He raised his beer bottle.

"To my wife. To this shabby yet charming Diner she picked for our wedding day, because she can't handle an overdose of romance. To French fries and rings that aren't made of onions."

Giggles interrupted his speech, but he silenced her.

"I'm not done. Dana Katherine Scully, I promise to make you happy. You can have the remote control at least once a week, and I'll let you hog my blankets. I'll go down on you wherever you want, even in the tub. Even if it means drowning while simultaneously breaking my back."

Now she was laughing openly, but he was still not done.

"I'm only saying this once, but I _do_ love you more than 'Twilight Zone'."

He gestured heavenwards to the Gods of science fiction and mouthed a silent "sorry".

She couldn't stop laughing and had to gasp for air.

"Fox William Mulder, you're crazy."

He nodded solemnly.

"Crazy in love. Also, there's this."

Reaching into his inside pocket, he presented her with an envelope. She ogled him suspiciously.

"What's that?"

"Only one way to find out."

He took a swig and watched her closely, as she opened the envelope, reveling in satisfaction, as her jaw hit the floor.

"Bahamas?!"

He shrugged.

"They say the best part of getting married is the honeymoon, so..." His voice trailed off. "Skinner signed our vacation forms. He thinks you're nuts for taking me, but wishes us just the best, blah blah. We're leaving on Monday. You, me, cocktails, the sun... What do you think?"

Suddenly, he felt insecure about the whole idea, but she'd already left her booth to slip into his. Then her arms were all around him and her mouth was on his, tasting like beer, French fries and happiness.

"I say 'yes'," she murmured between kisses. "Yes, yes, yes. Mulder... take me home."

xxx

Dana Scully had said "yes" to Fox Mulder many times before.

25 years ago in a cramped basement office, she'd said "yes" for the very first time. And then again in Oregon. She'd said "yes" to taking care of his fish, "yes" to following him, "yes" to kissing him. She'd cried "yes" one night with his body above hers.

He'd said "yes" as well. "Yes" to trusting her. "Yes" to fathering her child. "Yes" to falling in love with her.

Then, she'd said "no". And for a while, nothing more had been said.

Until, more recently, "yes" had been whispered once again.

_Can you hold me?_

Laughter was back, and so was love. More "yes" in tangled sheets, whispered and cried.

And this "yes"? The newest "yes"? It shouldn't feel so unprecedented, because he had already been hers, she had already been his.

But when he brought her home that night, he _did_ carry her over the threshold. And when he unzipped the pale blue dress, the dress that had become her wedding gown, there was some kind of reverence in his caress. His kiss was like a promise, and "forever" whispered in his touch.

They made love with care that night.

Because... _Time passes in moments._

Cupping his hip – one moment. Her thighs falling apart – another one. His lips on her skin, trailing sensations down her body. Her fingers wrapping around him, evoking a gasp. His palm cupping her cheek, finding her hot and flushed. Her bright blue gaze forcing his eyes open, as he entered her.

Moment by moment by moment.

Moments leading up to a lifetime together.

Leading up to eternity.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This story was first posted on ffnet.

**Author's Note:**

> In my book, MS4 has never happened. Scully never got pregnant – not because I think a woman at the age of 54 shouldn't be pregnant, rather because I believe you shouldn't try to fix the William mess with another pregnancy. It's just wrong. Everything about this finale was wrong. Don't get me started.
> 
> For me, season 11 ended in a church, ended with Mulder and Scully taking a leap of faith. Together. I refuse to believe anything else.
> 
> This story takes place some weeks later. I promise it won't go to hell in a lovey-dovey handbasket.


End file.
